


ULysses 3-6894

by Jo (jmathieson)



Series: Tangents and Intersections ~ Kink Bingo 2013 [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Historical Roleplay, M/M, Masturbation, Pre-Slash, Sexual Fantasy, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-07-10
Packaged: 2017-12-18 08:39:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/877833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmathieson/pseuds/Jo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Kink Bingo Round Six (2013) ~ Historical Roleplay</p>
    </blockquote>





	ULysses 3-6894

**Author's Note:**

> Kink Bingo Round Six (2013) ~ Historical Roleplay

_  
The scene was straight out of an old James Cagney gangster movie, except that they were the good guys. Phil stood beside the open window of a run-down hotel room. He had taken his suit jacket off, but was still wearing his vest and tie. The jacket was neatly folded on one of the two twin beds that were crammed into the tiny room. The only other furniture was a small battered wooden desk and chair, which sported a telephone and two fedoras, one new and dove grey, the other old and battered and once black. Two trench coats hung on a peg by the door._

_Phil was smoking a cigarette, his fifth of the evening, watching the rain, watching the mark, and watching Barton. Barton was crouched out on the fire escape in his shirtsleeves with a rifle aimed at the alleyway below. In one way it was a routine mission, in another it was completely off the reservation. Knuckles Malone might be one of the country's most dangerous outlaws, but the public would still balk at the idea of the FBI's G-men taking out his bodyguards with a sniper as a prelude to arresting him. So this op was completely black. There would be no record of it in any file, and the unfortunate bodyguard would be assumed to have been killed in a firefight during the arrest. They had already lost too many good agents in tracking this gangster down, so any way to level the playing field was fair game. Or so Coulson had argued when he presented his plan to the Director. And if the Director had guessed at Phil's other reason for proposing that it be done this particular way, he hadn't let on._

_Phil stubbed out his cigarette and added the butt to the small pile on the windowsill. He'd pick them up when they cleared the room in the morning. He looked at the mark, and then at Barton. Barton had been sitting out in the rain for 40 minutes, and was soaked through. Water ran through his hair and down the sides of his face, but he didn't seem to notice it, only blinking when the drops threatened to get into his eyes. He'd left his jacket, vest and tie in the room, they were hung over a chair, and his suspenders were off his shoulders and hanging loose by his thighs._

_'I don't like the way the butt of the rifle sits against my shoulder if I leave 'em on,' he'd explained to Phil shortly after they'd started working together._

_As Phil watched, there was a flash of lightning. He could see Barton's finger tighten minutely on the trigger, waiting... Barton fired just as the crash of thunder hit, completely covering the sound of the shot. The man in the alley with the sub-machine gun crumpled to the ground, and Phil knew without seeing it that there was a small round hole in the center of his forehead._

_Phil stepped away from the window and crossed to the phone on the desk._

_"Ulysses 3-6894, please," he told the hotel's switchboard operator._

_"One moment please."_

_Phil picked up a towel that he'd purposely left on the bed earlier, and tossed it to Barton as he climbed in though the window, dripping. Barton nodded his thanks._

_"Putting your call through now, sir."_

_"Hello?"_

_"Is Mr. Stevens there please?"_

_"You must have the wrong number, there's no Mr. Stevens here."_

_"Sorry to disturb you." Phil hung up the phone and turned to Barton._

_"Nice work."_

_"Thanks," Barton said, toweling his hair._

_"The op is on, we're staying here until morning, as planned." Phil paused, abruptly nervous now that that was confirmed, "You... you should take those wet clothes off. You'll catch a chill." Phil looked pointedly down at the puddle that was being created from the rain dripping off Barton's trouser cuffs and onto the floor._

_"Sure thing boss," said Barton, and headed into the hotel room's tiny bathroom, swinging the door closed, but not latching it behind him._

_Phil took a deep breath. He and Barton had been dancing around each other for months, figuratively, of course. And carefully. Oh, so very carefully. First it was just the way Barton would show up at his office with a fresh cup of coffee and stay to chat. Then a long look when they were sitting next to each other in a car, on a stake-out. In the past couple of months they had progressed to very careful 'accidental' brushes of hands or fingers when handing over case files. Phil was 99% sure that he and Barton were on the same page, but only 70% sure that it wouldn't be disastrous if they weren't. Tonight, in a dingy hotel room at the end of an off-the-books op, he was going to find out, if his courage didn't fail._

_Phil considered lighting another cigarette while he was waiting for Barton... for Clint to come out of the bathroom, but he didn't want to have a lit cigarette in his hands when... he wished he had thought to bring a couple of bottles of Coke. He turned and stared out the window. The body was still lying in the alley. The rest of the team would be arriving soon to make the arrest, but no one except the Director knew that Phil and Clint were here._

_Phil heard the bathroom door, but didn't turn around. He was trying to figure out what to say when Clint came quietly up behind him. Phil turned and his breath caught at the sight of Clint Barton, bare-chested and wearing only a towel, standing just a few inches away._

_"See something you like?" Clint asked with a slightly nervous grin._

_Phil took a step forward._

_"How's this healing?" he put one hand gently on a long red mark on Clint's side, a minor knife wound from an op two weeks ago._

_"Fine." They were standing inches apart, looking into each other's eyes. Phil put his other hand on Clint; now he was holding him by the waist. Clint smelled of sweat and rain and Phil wanted to bury his face in the broad chest, kissing and licking and sucking... but he kept his eyes on Clint's, impossibly bright._

_"Tell me this is what you want." Phil needed to hear it._

_"Yes," said Clint, and bent his head to kiss Phil. The kiss is soft and sweet and gentle and tender and Phil melted at the touch of those lips on his._

_"Yes," Clint said again, putting one hand to Phil's cheek, and sliding it back into his hair before kissing him again, just as gently._

_"Yes," Clint said a third time, raising his other hand to the buttons on Phil's shirt and pausing._

_"Yes," said Phil. The next few minutes were a tangle of arms and mouths and tongues and clothes and hands in hair and hands on buttons and Clint undressing Phil and Phil pulling them back onto the bed and un-tucking Clint's towel. Then they were both naked on the bed, Phil on his back and Clint above him, warm and solid and heavy and Phil thought he'd died and gone to heaven. He felt Clint's hard cock sliding against his and he knew he was on earth but he was ready to die happy if he could just have this one night with Clint._

_Clint's tongue was in his mouth and his hands were on Clint's arms. Skin slid against hot, sweaty skin and it all felt so impossibly good. Then Clint supported himself on one powerful arm and got his other hand between their bellies and wrapped his long, strong fingers around both their cocks and started to stroke..._  
  
Phil woke up with his hand around his hard cock, legs tangled in the sheets and breathing heavily into his pillow.

His first conscious thought was that he shouldn't be having inappropriate dreams about Clint. His second was, 'We're both adults, and SHIELD doesn't have a fraternization policy.' His third was, 'I'm so screwed.' Phil dropped his head back to the pillow, turned over on his back, and sighed. 

'Maybe my subconscious is trying to tell me something. In the dream, Clint kept saying yes.' The images of the dream washed over him, the Film Noir setting, the rain. He could almost smell the hotel room and feel Clint's body against his. Phil let his hand trail back down to his still-hard cock and touched himself, stroking gently at first, but then harder and faster as he abandoned himself to the images of Clint above him, rubbing their cocks together...

Phil came with a gasp and a sigh. He rolled over to avoid the wet spot, but it was a while before he managed to fall back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks always to my patient and understanding editor t!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at: [Queen of Wands](http://jmathieson-fic.tumblr.com/)


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